Why I Dread the New Lorax

Now look, I'm not normally the type to bitch about remakes, redos, and reboots.  I find such behavior to be generally dull and pointless.  I mean we live in a capitalist society, it's obvious and completely understandable that people are going to want to capitalize on established brand names rather than take a risk on new properties.  That being said, the new Lorax movie kind of pisses me off.

Like most nerds with misdirected anger my annoyance stems from an intense personal identification with an aged piece of pop culture.  I was first gripped by the story of the Lorax through the 1972 animated TV special which used the original Dr. Seuss text to tell a story through dialogue, song, narration, and hand-drawn animation.  What has always intrigued me about The Lorax is the darkness of the story in comparison with other children's fare.  The audience is left with hope at the end of the tale, but there is no guarantee that everything will be okay.  It is encouraging to see a children's property that has enough faith in the intelligence of its audience not to hold their hands all the way through the end.

Another reason that I love the original Lorax story is the universality of its characters and themes.  On the surface The Lorax is a cautionary tale that urges the viewer to care for the environment, but the story isn't some mere public service announcement.  On a broader level the film also speaks about fatal human weaknesses such as greed and arrogance.  While the character of the Once-ler causes tragic environmental destruction on a massive scale, he is a sympathetic individual.  One of my favorite moments in the original cartoon occurs when the Once-ler experiences moments of self-doubt while sitting alone amongst his riches.  The guilt and denial that the character expresses in this scene illustrate the impressive complexity of the character, as well as his universality (after all, we are all flawed individuals).  The Once-ler is not a super villain who gets joy from destruction, but rather a well-intentioned but fatally flawed guy.  I also love how we never get to see the Once-ler's face.  The Once-ler's anonymity allows the viewer to project themselves onto the character.  Giving the Once-ler a face and identity (as the new Lorax film does) allows the viewer to disassociate with the character.  I wouldn't be surprised if this left the viewer with a less emotionally powerful experience as a result.

Another giant problem I have with the new Lorax film is that they seem to have molded the original's touching story of greed run amok into a trite "boy meets girl" tale.  According to Wikipedia, "The film follows Ted, an idealistic young boy, who tries to find the one thing that will win him affection of Audrey the girl of his dreams. To do so, he must discover the story of the Lorax, the grumpy yet charming creature who fights to protect his world".  Really?  If this synopsis proves accurate it will mean that the moral themes of the original film have devolved into a story of some guy trying to get into some girl's pants through a feigned interest in environmental issues.  I weep for the future.

Junji Ito's Gyo

About two or three years back I read a manga titled Uzumaki and I loved it. Uzumaki is a surreal horror tale about a small Japanese town that becomes overrun with spirals (one of the most memorable moments in the book occurs when a schoolboy slowly transforms into a snail). Uzumaki was my gateway into the world of horror manga and, in turn, the works of the horror manga maestro Junji Ito. Eager to reenter the surreal, grotesque and wildly imaginative world of Uzumaki, I've picked up and read a number of manga horror titles since, including Ito's Gyo. And while nothing has matched the nerdy high of discovering Uzumaki, Gyo is a solid title and is worth a read for any English speaking Ito admirers clamoring to read more of his work. I recently revisited Gyo during the downtime in my holiday break and I thought I'd use my blog to show this relatively obscure title a bit of love.

Gyo tells the tale of Tadashi, a rather ordinary guy who discovers a monster fish whilst vacationing with his girlfriend Kaori. This fish is attached to a bizarre metal contraption with "legs" that allow it to walk on land and, unfortunately for our heroes, is only one of many sea creatures of its ilk. Soon all sorts of sea creatures, including a shark and a whale, are rising out of the water on mechanical legs and coming ashore to wreck havoc on human civilization. The image of the whale is visually stunning - its body is so massive that its legs bend and collapse under its weight. The origin of the creatures is unknown. What is known is that they carry with them disease and an overpowering stench, a smell which one character compares to that of a human corpse on a hot summer day. After awhile humans catch the disease and become infected. Eventually the bodies of the infected humans attach themselves to the same contraptions that allowed the fish to walk on land (see the picture for a particularly awesome and grotesque example) and humanity is pretty much screwed.

Gyo, like Uzumaki, excels at darkly imaginative and witty imagery. The bloated and diseased human corpses riding on mechanical legs form a great visual juxtaposition between organic fragility and cold mechanized efficiency, while also spectacularly capitalizing on humanity's innate fear of disease and decay. Fish walking on land is another great horror image because it violates the divide between land and sea in ways that are both grotesque and fascinating. In other words, Gyo thrives on contradictions and juxtapositions, like fish that live on land and dead bodies that move. Along this same line one of my favorite moments in the manga occurs when the hero comes upon a circus in which diseased animals and people perform for a non-existent audience. A circus held during the end of the world...what an awesome concept!

But lest I sound like a drooling fangirl, let me point out that I still think this work is inferior to Ito's Uzumaki. The narrative here is less developed and less strong than that in Uzumaki and the characters are pretty underdeveloped. In particular, Tadashi's mad scientist uncle came across as silly and B-movie-ish (and not in a good way).

That said, Gyo's still a solid work, and I highly recommend it to fans of Uzumaki or the horror genre in general. The complete story stretches two volumes and is available in English courtesy of Viz Media. Volume two contains two bonus short stories by Ito, which are unrelated to the plot of Gyo, but nonetheless make for decent capstones to this wonderfully weird work.

Stuff I Wanna See: Moonlight Mask

I was doing some browsing on Facebook when I saw the poster to your left. I was intrigued by the retro-coolness of the poster design as well as the inexplicable yet awesome outfits on display (the turban and sunglasses combo, the tidy 1950's hat and suit, the dude with the skull mask in the left hand corner, etc.) I love offbeat Japanese movies and this was one that I knew nothing about.

So I did a bit of exploring using the vast resources of the Internet and discovered that the poster in question was an advertisement for a film in the "Moonlight Mask" series. Moonlight Mask, apparently, was a Japanese superhero from the late 1950's. Wikipedia (which, granted, isn't the best source in the world, but my resources were limited here) describes Moonlight Mask's appearance as follows, "Decked out in white tights, white & red cape, white scarf, yellow gloves & boots, dark glasses, face cloth and Indian-style turban (pinned with a 'moon' ornament), Moonlight Mask is armed with a whip, two six-shooters, shuriken and moon-shaped boomerangs. He also rides a motorcycle." Moonlight Mask made his debut on television in 1958. A film trilogy was released in the same year, presumably to capitalize on the popularity of the property. The poster I've included in my post is for the second film in the series, Moonlight Mask - Duel to the Death in Dangerous Waters. The series was apparently revived a handful of times, by way of a 1970's anime series and a 1981 film. There also exists a parody of the franchise titled "Kekko Kamen", which follows a topless and pants-less masked superheroine who incapacitates her enemies by shoving her crotch into their faces (?!?!).

Anyhow, I'm getting off topic. The reason I posted this is because the old-school 1958 Midnight Mask stuff looks awesome (in a kitschy, campy way) and I'd love to watch it/learn more about it. Unfortunately, though, I'm having trouble finding info about the series in English. Are there any fanboys or girls who know where I could get my hands on a subtitled copy of the original 1950's TV episodes or movies? This looks like a piece of pop history that's too compelling to let slip by.

Best Music Writing 2010: The Highlights

I recently read, and thoroughly enjoyed, a book called Retromania by Simon Reynolds.  When I was done reading that, I hopped over to Amazon.com to grab some advice on what to read next.  Whilst browsing through the links I saw a compilation entitled Best Music Writing 2010.  I read a few pages online and thought it seemed decently engaging so I picked it up. 

I just finished reading the last entry the other day.  Overall, I enjoyed this title.  The book is composed of thirty-six different articles, each somehow related to music, that was published in 2009 (the "2010" of the title refers to the date the compilation itself was published).  The articles vary greatly in both content and form.  There's an impressive range of music genres and personalities covered, and the writing styles on display include interviews, profiles, personal essays, and investigative pieces.  I enjoyed the variety in this volume as it exposed me to stuff I would never normally read about, and thus slightly broadened my worldview in the process (always a good thing).  Anyway, for those who enjoy reading entertainment journalism, this is a solid read that, on the whole, is well edited and assembled.  Only one article, the needlessly pretentious "Lady Gaga in Hell" (which bizarrely compares the "Poker Face" video to poet William Blake's description of Hell), came across as a complete dud.  All the other articles were amusing or interesting or both.

Now with that said, I'd like to switch up my normal book reviewing routine.  Since this is a compilation of a number of different writings, I'd like to take this space to highlight the articles I found particularly interesting or worth-reading.  I've picked three (a nice, arbitrary number) articles that particularly clicked with me, though of course I urge any interested parties to pick up the book and decide for themselves what's hot and what's not.  With that disclaimer out of the way let's begin the countdown:

1)  "The Gossip Takes Paris" - Michelle Tea.  This article opens the collection, and it's a strong opening indeed.  "The Gossip Takes Paris" is a retelling of author Michelle Tea's experiences at Paris Fashion Week as she follows Beth Ditto, lead singer of The Gossip.  One of the reasons why I enjoyed this piece was because of its characterization of Ditto.  I knew little about her before reading this article, and truthfully found her outspoken persona a bit repellent.  Tea's writing helped humanize and endear Ditto to me.  Hearing about Ditto's anxieties (she makes the author leave the room during a photoshoot "because loomers make Beth nervous when she's getting her photo taken") helped to give the eccentric pop star a relatable vulnerability.  Also of note in this essay are the author's descriptions of the various fashion shows and parties that occurred during fashion week.  Now I'm not one for fashion, so it's a testament to Tea's writing that I was actually interested in the events described.  One of my favorite parts in the article was the description of Jean-Charles de Castelbajac's Muppet themed collection.  It sounded so offbeat and fun, with the zany clothing designs and the onstage antics (the models threw fake money into the crowd at the end of the show). 

2)  "Michael Jackson: An Appreciation of His Talent" - Jason King.  This is the second of two articles in this compilation that were written in response to Michael Jackson's death in the summer of 2009.  And of the two articles, this one's my favorite.  King's article is useful both as a quick overview of Jackson's career and as an analysis of his public persona.  The historical overview of Jackson's career as presented here is thorough yet incredibly readable.  I loved the comparison King draws between Thriller and the blockbusters of the 1970s, "...1982's Thriller defined the pop album as a blockbuster mega-spectacle.  It did for music what Jaws and Star Wars did for film, turning an art form into an event".  Also interesting is King's analysis of Jackson's public persona, which manages to be sympathetic while still packing a critical punch.

3)  "Vanishing Act: In Search of Eva Tanguay, the First Rock Star" - Jody Rosen.  I loved this article because it exposed me to a historical entertainer I knew nothing about.  Eva Tanguay, as Rosen describes in her article, was born in 1878 and gained fame in the early 1900's as a vaudeville star.  What makes Tanguay such a fascinating figure was her outspoken eccentricity.  Of particular note is Tanguay's dramatic fashion sense, described by Rosen as follows, "The costumes, which Tanguay claimed to have designed herself were avant-garde and architectural: hats that rose several feet above her head, constructed from ribbons, bells, leaves, ostrich plumes; gowns made of feathers, beads, dollar bills, seashells, coral.  A particular cause celebre was Tanguay's '$40 dress' - a garment fashioned from 4,000 pennies"   Tanguay's stage persona was brash, loud, and overconfident.  Her hit song was entitled "I Don't Care" and the lyrics painted a picture of a outspoken and supremely confident female star.  Rosen's article approaches the figure of Tanguay under the angle that her star is "...forgotten, but not gone".  In other words, while Tanguay's name may have faded into obscurity, her legacy lives on in the careers of modern, image conscious female pop artists such as Madonna and Lady Gaga.  Rosen's article is a compelling testament to how art is indebted (often unconsciously) to the pioneering works that preceded it.  Plus Tanguay seems like an unbelievably awesome character and I'm glad to know about her.

My Favorite Things

THESE ARE MY FAVORITE THINGSSS!!

*Audience of middle-aged women screams at the top of their lungs*

And so it goes.  Well, I know I'm no Oprah, but that doesn't mean I can't rip her show off all the same.  In the spirit of the departed Oprah show (and in the spirit of materialism and happy holidays) I thought it would be fun to blog about my favorite stuff.  Now, as I said earlier I'm no media mogul, so there's no free shit here.  If you're looking for complimentary cars, I can tell you that I have none.  But what I do have are a very particular set of geeky interests, which make for entertaining (if not self-indulgent and fan-ish) blog fodder. 

Okay, before I continue let's lay down some ground rules.  First thing, being that this is a petite blog post there's no way I'm gonna fit everything I currently like on this thing.  I'm not even going to try to make this a comprehensive list, so no tears if you notice that I missed something awesome/cool.  Life's not fair.  So with the limited scope of the list in mind, let me give you some further idea of how I've organized this list.  I've picked two categories: movies and books.  In each of the two categories I've picked three different things that I happen to like.  Now, these three things are random- they may be something current or an old favorite or just something in between.  Rest assured, if I mention something here then I think that it's pretty cool and it is given the Hedorah stamp of approval.

Now without further ado, let's get the party started.  These are a few of my favorite things:

Movies:
In Bruges - I have loved this movie since I first viewed it in a Chicago theater with my friend El Lobo back in 2008.  Recently I decided to revisit it after combing through my DVD collection during a fit of boredom.  And you know what?  It's still awesome.  Beautiful European scenery, unflinching violence, and an awesome cast of oddball characters are all selling points, but it's the darkly witty dialogue that really makes the movie for me (ex- "A lot of midgets tend to kill themselves. A disproportionate amount, actually...not the R2-D2 man; no, he's still going").  Not to sound like a snob, but a lot of modern mainstream comedy leaves me cold.  In Bruges was just dark, biting, and smart enough to break past my pretensions and make me laugh.  And the fact that the movie still entertains on the fourth or fifth time 'round is a testament to how well-written this film is.

Outrage - Outrage is a Japanese yakuza flick from 2010.  I recently had the chance to see it in the theater and I thought it was a pretty solid picture.  Outrage tells the blood-soaked story of power struggles amongst members of modern Japan's criminal underbelly.  It's a pure adrenaline rush of a movie as betrayals and power grabs among the yakuza lead to inventive and increasingly brutal moments of violence (the film's unconventional use of dental equipment is unforgettable).  Couple these punchy moments of violence with some sharp black humor and you have a movie worth the price of admission.

Curse of the Golden Flower - I saw this movie in theaters way back when it first came out in '07, but I decided to revisit it recently after watching Red Sorghum (the 1987 film that marked the directorial debut of Zhang Yimou as well as the acting debut of Gong Li) earlier this year.  Despite some dated CG, I found that Golden Flower still thrills.  The movie's story is Shakespearean in scope and it's fun to watch the characters' tortured relationships play out as their dark family secrets come to light.  Plus, the elaborate costumes are spectacular and Gong Li is awesome as the Empress who tries in vain to defy her husband's rule.  The action scenes here are pretty rock solid as well.

Books:
Retromania by Simon Reynolds - Reynolds is a music critic/commentator who noticed a trend of recycling and repackaging in modern pop music and decided to investigate.  Reynolds spends 400+ pages mining the culture behind the recycling of old musical material and theorizing on why the nostalgia market for old musical acts/styles has grown so bloated in recent years.  The author is prone to go off on tangents, but for those with an interest in pop culture these tangents will be just another enjoyable part of the ride that is Retromania.  While Reynolds is specifically interested in music, his book will appeal to anyone interested in pop culture creation and consumption in a broad sense.  I found his chapter on Youtube to be particularly awesome.

The Sandman Vol. 1: Preludes and Nocturnes by Neil Gaiman - I loved the Sandman series in high school and recently went back and read the first few volumes.  Guess what?  They're still compelling pieces of storytelling.  The Sandman series is so hyped that I feel like any praise I have to give is redundant at this point, so I'll just leave it at this: the series is awesome and you should read it if you have not yet done so.

Witchcraft Through the Ages by Jack Stevenson - a quick read that sheds light on an interesting though relatively obscure figure in film history - Benjamin Christensen, the director of the cult 1920's film Haxan.  While much of the book focuses on Haxan, it also details Christensen's life and career before and after the making of his most famous film.  Lovers of the obscure or the offbeat will delight in this slim, yet informative title.  It also makes a great companion piece to a viewing of Haxan.

Benjamin Christensen himself as Satan in Haxan!

Sweet Nostalgia

I yearn for a simpler time.  Get off my lawn!

About a month ago now my friend Juan wrote a post about nostalgia.  I've been wanting to respond to his post for a while now, but it was a topic I wanted to sit and mull over before I wrote about it.  You see, out of seemingly nowhere nostalgia has become the dominant emotion of the past year of my life.  Shit that I haven't thought about in years, like the Tony Hawk games or the Pokemon anime circa the early 2000's, has suddenly become of utmost importance to me.  Over the summer I'd indulge my nostalgic tendencies, spending long nights revisiting everything from my youth that was even remotely worth a second look.  The Internet makes it easy to find artifacts from the past.  I'm not going to lie, there were some empty summer nights that I wasted away gorging my senses on random Youtube  videos that had no value outside the sentimental.  Youtube totally has the nostalgia market covered.  Clips of old TV shows, movie trailers, video game footage, retro commercials, and seemingly every pop song ever recorded are all online and easily retrievable.  Making all that nostalgic crap available to Internet-surfing nerds is a cool and admirable thing, but isn't also a tad irresponsible?  Like a kid in a candy store, it can sometimes be hard for me to peel myself away from the Internet and avoid OD'ing on candy-coated retro pop goodness.  Too much of a good thing?  Sometimes.

Screenshot of Mr. Mosquito, a favored video game from my youth

As long as such nostalgia binges don't overtake my existence and completely stall my intellectual growth though, I'm fine with indulging once in a while.  Most definitions of the world nostalgia involve the word "longing".  And it's true that sometimes that desire to revisit that past can be strong, all-consuming and borderline painful.  I will never be able to revisit the past or entirely satiate that hunger to relive moments of my life.  What I'm trying to say is this: there can be a sharp bitterness to nostalgia that's hard to ignore.  But on the flip side of that I also find that there's a sweetness to the emotion.  Sure I'll never be able to relive my life, but sometimes it's precisely the unattainability of the past that makes it so desirable.  Also, because I can't go back and relive past moments in the flesh, I can continually tell myself tales about how great the past was without coming up against any hard evidence to the contrary.  But perhaps the sweetest part about feeling nostalgia is that it indicates that you've built a past worth feeling nostalgic about.  As Juan put it in his article, "I think the thing about nostalgia which I like so much is that demonstrates to me that I had so much fun at many times in my older years."  Amen, Mr. Lobo.

And like Juan, I too find that I sometimes feel a nostalgic longing for things I never personally experienced in my lifetime.  Sometimes I feel as though I've "borrowed" the nostalgia other people feel for, say, 1980's pop music or 1950's style a la American Graffiti.  Sure I didn't grow up in these decades, but after a lifetime of consuming other people's memories via film, music, and fashion, some of my elders' nostalgic feelings naturally rubbed off on me.  Now, obviously I'm not nostalgic for the real 1980's or the real 1950's, but rather the decades as they've been represented to me by movies and other forms of pop culture.  This is an small but important distinction to make.  Being that I didn't live through these times, I can't really say what my true feelings would have been on them, but that doesn't mean that I don't have strong feelings for some of these decades nonetheless.  Some particular exports from certain decades (ex-1950's monster movies, 1970's zombie movies, 1980's video games, etc.)  hold a nostalgic appeal to me, even if I didn't experience them the first time around.  Now let me be clear, the appeal of most of these cultural artifacts doesn't lie solely in their nostalgic qualities, but I'd be lying if I said that the retro factor wasn't a substantial part of their draw.

Juan, in his post, stated that "pop culture is what gives these memories significance or paints the palette of their context to me."  I couldn't agree with this sentiment more.  Seemingly everything I feel about nostalgia seems to come from pop culture in one way or another.  Whether we're talking about movies or music giving me a context for bygone eras (see the previous paragraph) or me having nostalgia for moments in my own life relating to the media I consumed in the past, pop culture seems to be the metaphorical sun that my nostalgia revolves around. 

In case you couldn't already tell, a lot of what I endeavor to write about on this blog stems from my feelings about nostalgia and pop culture.  I didn't necessarily set out to write this blog with that goal in mind, but looking back on the posts I wrote over the past few months a pattern of nostalgia is fairly apparent.  Don't get me wrong Zombie Baby's not a nostalgia blog, I just like to indulge in the emotion fairly often.

Book Review: Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother

Being a single lady sans child I am not normally the type to pick up a book about parenting.  That being the case I should probably explain how I came to read Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother to give you a bit of context.  Well, I first became aware of the title via a phone conversation with my good friend El Lobo.  He recounted to me the tales of a crazed Asian mom who bullied her two young daughters into classical music mastery.  The extremity of these parenting tales peaked my interest and I figured I had to read the entire book to (a) get the full story and (b) have a good laugh at the expense of two kids' wrecked childhoods.  So basically I was motivated by morbid curiosity and the faint promise of some sadistic humor.

With these questionable motives in mind I picked up Tiger Mother as soon as a copy became available at my local library.  I began reading with a single minded intensity, totally eager to scan past shocking descriptions of heinous verbal abuse dealt out by a psycho stage mom.  And you know what?  I didn't get that.  Amy Chua (the author and self-identified "Tiger Mom") has been portrayed by the press as a cruel, unfeeling enemy of all children.  But I didn't get that impression from the book.  On the contrary Chua comes across as a woman concerned with providing her two young dauthers with a strong foundation for adulthood, a healthy dose of self-esteem, and a passion for the arts.  Chua attempts to accomplish these tasks the best she can, but sometimes she screws up majorly.  In other words, she's basically an average parent.  Everybody is doing what they think is right, but mistakes are inevitable.  What particularly endeared me to the author is that she acknowledges where, when, and why she went wrong.

As I read the book I got the impression that the text was written primarily for Chua's closest family and friends.  Yes, the text is perfectly fit for public consumption, but the book focuses almost solely with Chua's personal experience.  The book describes Amy Chua's experiences of raising her kids in the "traditional Chinese immigrant style" (aka, strict, no-nonsense, academically-focused parenting).  With that subject as the premise, Chua has the opportunity to research and explore the differences between traditional Chinese and western style parenting in a broader sociological sense.  But generally she skips over any broader explorations of parenting styles in favor of telling a smaller, more personal story about her own life experiences.  Which is fine.  Chua wrote a breezy, light memoir about her life.  This kind of book totally has its place.  I guess I'm just a little disappointed because when I read through the book I couldn't help thinking that it could be so much more.  Like the Tiger Mother examining a shoddily produced b-day card, when I look at this book I can't help but see so much missed potential.

Don't get me wrong, Battle Hymn of the Tiger Mother is a decent, reasonably entertaining read.  And you can be sure that when Chua does lapse into moments of crazed mothering it is pretty hilarious (see the brief moment when she threatens to burn her daughter's stuffed animals as a punishment for a lapse in musical tenacity...comic gold).  Also it's a pretty slim, quick read so picking up Tiger Mother is not a huge time investment for anybody.  That said, I generally believe that the effort you get out of something is often comparable to the effort you have to put in (a sentiment that the Tiger Mom herself would probably agree with).  So with that in mind, Tiger Mother is an easy read, but it's not a particularly enlightening one.

In conclusion:
Three outta five stars.  A mixed bag.